


Here to Help

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Angst, Gen, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“I’m here to help.” / “You? Help us do what?” / “Why, help you to wipe every last filthy human off this planet, of course!” said the Doctor.</i> The Doctor and Jamie's friendship gets pushed to the brink and back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here to Help

“I’m here to help,” said the Doctor.

The Xi’ri’rian commander loomed over him and the Doctor did his best to loom back, gripping his lapels and throwing up his chin. 

He’d always prided himself on seeing the beauty in all life, but sometimes it was difficult. The Xi’ri’rians were an especially tricky case, their faces a mass of teeth and wiggly bits, no visible eyes, only mouths, opening and shutting and grinding their teeth and oozing grey saliva. The commander huffed a breath and the scent of it was like old blood. “You?” it said in its hissing voice. “Help usss do what?”

“Why,” said the Doctor, “help you to wipe every last filthy human off this planet, of course!”

The words tasted bad in his mouth – but he could do this. He’d once bluffed a cagey Betelguesian merchant into thinking a broken pocket watch was a Sontaran battle computer. This was nothing.

“You?” The commander snorted, and again the stink of blood. “ _You_ would help uss? You reek. You’re covered in the sssstink of human sssweat. It’s sssick.”

“Oh, purely a matter of convenience,” said the Doctor. “They’ve been useful to me, in the past, but they’re animals – vermin, to be blunt. Now that you’re here, we can deal with them once and for all, eh? Your excellency,” he added with a bow.

The commander stared at him – or did it? It was so hard to tell. He hadn’t worked out where they kept their eyes yet, or if they even _had_ eyes. “Why should we need you?” it hissed. “Our ssssolar cannon is poised to fire. This planet’s sssurface with be sssscourged of filthy human life.”

“Well, yes, but there’ll be survivors,” said the Doctor, mentally filing away that business about the solar cannon for later usage. “They’re a very resilient species, you know – and they breed like rats. Or, ah, like fast-breeding vermin, anyway. Disgusting,” he tacked on as an afterthought.

The commander let out a low hiss that he chose to interpret as a good sign.

“I know these creatures,” he said. “I know how they think – if you show me your strategy I’m sure I can help. You do want them _all_ dead, don’t you?”

“Every lassst one,” agreed the commander.

“Excellent.” The Doctor bobbed a quick bow. “I’m at your disposal, your, ah, excellency. Shall we begin?”

And that, he thought, was that. The Xi’ri’rian commander introduced him to its underlings, who had unpronounceable names that he didn’t bother to learn since he couldn’t for the life of him tell them apart. On a screen set into the floor, they drew up their plan and let the Doctor pour over it. He put on a stern, serious expression, poked and prodded at the screen, offered sincere-sounding feedback, inwardly hopping with glee. 

Oh, this was going so well! A few hours in their control centre and he’d have all the information he needed to cripple them – or worse. He might even be finished in time for tea.

An hour into his clever plan, he’d convinced the Xi’ri’rians to hold off on the solar cannon for another day or so with some mumbo-jumbo about the earth’s atmosphere and ‘optimal conditions’, and now he was in the process of surreptitiously learning how it worked and memorising the layout of their ship. Yes, everything was going swimmingly – until he heard a dreadful commotion outside in the corridor.

It was a distant rumble of footsteps and voices. The Xi’ri’rians didn’t even look up from his work and so he didn’t either, but oh, his hearts plunged. He knew that voice. Well before the doors opened, he knew who it was.

Onto the bridge came two hulking Xi’ri’rians, dragging between them, clutched in their scaly appendages, a struggling human. A familiar humans. A human in a kilt. A human who ought to be miles away, safe and well and _doing what he was told_.

“Get your slimy – things off me!” said Jamie, squirming. “Let me _go_! I was only _lookin_ ’ at your stupid ship –”

“We found thisss human in the engine room,” said on of the guards.

Twisting his fingers together, the Doctor stared at Jamie, and stared. Oh, what was he to _do_? What was Jamie doing here?

The commander scrutinised Jamie – and poked a scaled tentacle at his chest. “You know thisss human?”

“Well, I –”

Before he could deny all knowledge, Jamie fixed his eyes on him and said clearly, “Doctor –” His gaze darted around the bridge. “What’s – goin’ on –”

His hearts now somewhere around the level of the floor or lower, the Doctor saw what had happened. Jamie was trying to rescue him. Jamie had been expecting to find him a prisoner, and instead he’d found –

“Are ye – you’re not – are ye _workin_ ’ for them?”

“I, I,” the Doctor stammered. There was no sense in denying it. Jamie had seen to that. Oh, they would have _words_ later. Words about the importance of _doing what one was told_ , and not barging in on other people’s clever plans and ruining everything, and most of all about knowing when to keep one’s mouth firmly _shut_.

“He sssseems to know you.” The commander’s head swung towards Jamie. “He sssseems to know you well.”

“Know me?” The Doctor’s tone was cool, but his breath caught in his throat.

Because he saw, like a lightning flash, what he would have to do – the only thing he _could_ do, in the circumstances. And it might just be the most hateful thing he’d ever done.

“Well, of course he knows me,” he said, straightening his shoulders, adopting his most confident stance. “He’s been of some, ah, use to me, in the past. As I said, humans can be very useful. Once you get used to the smell,” he added with a chuckle.

He heard Jamie say, “hey, now –” but ignored him.

He hoped – oh, he dearly hoped – that that would be enough. But one of the guards, clutching Jamie in its dreadful hands, growled, “it callssss you itss,” it made a gulping sound that he took to be a sign of disgust, “friend.”

“Ah yes, you see,” said the Doctor, “it was easiest to let it think that. Humans are dreadfully stubborn beasts – it’s so much easier to let them think they’re helping you of their own accord.” He motioned at Jamie. “I’ve been training this one for a few months, now – I’ve got it wrapped around my finger. So to speak.” He glanced at the commander’s hands, wondering if the Xi’ri’rians had anything comparable to fingers.

“No.” Jamie was twisting in the guards’ grip. “No, that’s no’ how it is –”

The commander was shifting, looking from the Doctor to Jamie. He was losing them. He could feel it, feel their suspicion crowding him. They had to trust him. They had to think he was on their side, for just a little longer – they _had_ to.

Steeling himself, not looking at Jamie, he said, “as if I could ever be friends with this – _thing_.” He flapped a hand in Jamie’s direction.

“Ssso you tricked it?” said the commander. The Doctor wasn’t the best at judging their body language, but it sounded perhaps impressed.

“Yes, it wasn’t terribly difficult,” he blustered. “This one isn’t very bright, even for a primitive. It follows me around like a puppy – pathetic, really.”

Bracing himself, he glanced at Jamie, hoping beyond hope that he would understand, that he could see what the Doctor was doing – but one look at Jamie’s face and he knew, he knew Jamie didn’t understand. Jamie looked as if the world had fallen on him, his expression one of utter devastation.

“Yes, it really does think we’re friends,” he went on. “It truly believes that I, I – care. It’s sad, really – how deluded it is. As if I could ever care for a stupid, filthy primitive –”

“Och, you – bastard!” Jamie strained against the grip of the guards, grimacing, almost wrenching his arms out of their sockets, “I’ll have you – I’ll get you for this, ye –”

A cold, logical part of the Doctor, a part he reviled, noted that this was good, that Jamie’s outburst of emotion would make the lie more credible. “There, you see,” he said, waving a hand at Jamie, who was squirming, tears oozing down his face. “It’s half wild. Good in a fight, but useless for anything else. Almost no intellect. I was growing bored of it anyway. Do what you will with it, it’s nothing to me.”

Jamie let out an inarticulate cry.

The commander stepped closer, looming over him. Then – one last test. He swung around to face Jamie and in a single smooth motion of steely flesh one slithering appendage, exuding spiked blades, was at Jamie’s throat.

Yes, it was a test, and there was only one way to pass – a million ways to fail. He had to play his cards just right or else – or else – 

The image of Jamie’s blood spraying across the deck swam through his mind and he pushed it aside, letting himself sink into the cool, cruel character he had created. “Do whatever you like – _I_ don’t care.”

The commander’s blades drew back and Jamie made a strangled noise as if he were dying already. His face twisted up, his eyes fell closed, struggling as if he could somehow get away.

“Although,” said the Doctor – lightly, lightly, as if Jamie’s life was a trifle, as if he’d only that moment thought of sparing him. “Weren’t we just saying it might, ah, be good to keep a few alive? For experimental purposes.”

The commander shivered. A gesture, he thought, of consideration.

“There are humans on other worlds, after all.” He motioned at Jamie. “It’s a healthy male. It _would_ be a waste to dispose of it before you’ve got some use out of it.”

With a grunt, the commander withdrew his blades. “Take it away,” he said, jerking his eyeless head at his guards. “It sssstinks.”

Jamie wriggled in their grasp as he was dragged away, wriggled like a worm on a fish-hook. The Doctor watched out of the corner of his eye, forcing himself not to look, because if he looked his expression might give him away even to a Xi’ri’rian.

The doors clanged shut. He allowed himself one deep, shaking breath and returned to business. “Now, then.” He beamed up at the commander. “Where were we?”

*

As it went to pieces, the ship’s engines roared. Heat shimmered off the metal deck plates, ringing and pinging under the Doctor’s feet as he raced through the arched corridors in search of the detention cells.

There was an almighty rumble and he staggered as, somewhere, another section of the ship came away. His hearts pounded, straining in his chest. He couldn’t be too late. He _couldn’t_. If anything were to have happened to Jamie – here, in this place – thinking that he – thinking that the Doctor –

He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – forgive himself, not ever.

The door was standing half-open. He hauled it the rest of the way, his arms burning with the strain, and there beyond it lay a row of cells, the doors all open – but one.

The lock was the fiddly electronic sort he couldn’t stand and couldn’t pick, but he refused to be thwarted by a locked door. He forced off the cover and jammed wires together until it gave with a spark and a fizzle, and –

And there was Jamie, pressed into one corner of the featureless cell, his knife clasped in his hand, staring at the door as if he was expecting to see an advancing Xi’ri’rian. At the sight of the Doctor his whole body trembled and re-tensed, adjusting his grip on the knife.

“Jamie –”

“You can stay over there!”

Jamie was glaring at him as if he were a stranger and the Doctor moved towards him as if towards a wild animal, one hand gently outstretched. “Jamie, I –”

“Don’t _touch_ me!” Jamie brandished the knife.

“Oh – oh, Jamie, I’m sorry – but – but –” Somewhere there was a noise like thunder and moments later the cell shook, the lights flickering. The Doctor braced himself but Jamie was caught off-guard and almost fell. “You have to come with me,” gabbled the Doctor.

He reached out, but Jamie twisted away. “You think I’ll go anywhere with you – after –”

“Oh, there’s no _time_ for this!” cried the Doctor, wringing his hands. “I didn’t mean it, and – and this whole place is going to pieces – and oh, it might already be too late!”

“Aye, running away and leave your new friends to die, are you?” Jamie’s eyes flicked around the cell, looking at the hot shivering walls.

“You don’t believe that,” said the Doctor, his voice wobbling. He couldn’t possibly believe that – could he? Not Jamie.

“How th’hell would _you_ know what I believe?”

“I know _you_ ,” said the Doctor.

An earth-shaking _crack_ and the cell went dark, tossing and turning as if they were on rough seas; and the lights were flaring and Jamie stumbled, fell – into the Doctor’s arms.

He clutched at the Doctor for support before he realised what he was doing – and looked up – and froze.

There was no time. “We have to go _now_ ,” the Doctor shouted over the racket and before Jamie could wriggle away he had him by the arm, dragging him towards the cell door, towards the Xi’ri’rians, towards fire and danger and – if they were very lucky – the TARDIS.

It would be the only safe place for miles, if his little bit of sabotage had been successful. It was just as well the Xi’ri’rians had chosen such a desolate spot – and that he’d seen that the few humans nearby were evacuated. Or he _hoped_ they’d been evacuated. He’d have to trust that Victoria had got them to safety – and that she was safe herself, outside the blast zone –

Scree slipped and skittered beneath his feet as he towed Jamie down the hillside to where the TARDIS waited in the shadow of the cliffs. The air was hot and heavy with static, the ground shaking as the vast spacecraft atop the mountain screamed in its death throes.

He had to release Jamie’s arm to fetch out the key and Jamie didn’t run, didn’t try to make it on his own, which was a good sign. He fumbled with the key and when the door at last opened he didn’t look at Jamie, didn’t look at his face, just grabbed his arm and tumbled him inside, nigh-throwing him into the control room.

_Click_. The doors hummed closed – and not a moment too soon. 

Even in the shielded TARDIS interior they felt the blast, felt it right down in their bones. The console lit up as alarms and emergency signals blared and screamed, the room lurched, tipping from side to side, sending them both heavily to the floor. Furniture clattered about as the Doctor flailed vainly for something to hold onto.

The floor tilting, he slammed into the doors, the impact knocking all the breath from his lungs. He lay there, half-stunned, until at last after what felt like an age they levelled out.

“Oof,” he said, heaving himself to his feet. He dusted off his coat and allowed himself a chuckle. “No harm done, eh? Shall I –”

Before he could utter another word, something slammed into him so hard it almost sent him sprawling back to the floor. It was Jamie – Jamie’s shoulder, followed by his fist, punching the Doctor’s arm hard. “Ow-w!” he said, rubbing it.

“What the _hell_ are you playin’ at?” said Jamie – and the Doctor looked into his face, and saw that harm had been done after all.

He said, “ah.”

“Pathetic, am I?” said Jamie. “Deluded, am I?” He aimed another punch and when the Doctor dodged he shoved him instead, sending him reeling back towards the console. “Och, I’ll show you _primitive_ –” He raised his hand, fist clenched as if to really hit the Doctor, really punch him – but stilled. His hand dropped. “And I don’t _smell_ ,” he added lamely.

“Of course you don’t.” The Doctor held up his hands, as if such a faint gesture could placate Jamie. He was breathing hard, his shoulders heaving, about as angry as the Doctor had ever seen him. “Oh – oh, Jamie, don’t you see – I had to say it, don’t you understand? I had to make them think I was on their side –”

“Aye, you would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“Really now, Jamie,” said the Doctor, as exasperated as he was distressed. “I’d have thought you’d know me better than that,” he said, his voice wobbling.

“Och, ye –” Breathing deep, Jamie took his head in his hands, covering his face. “I know. I know you didnae mean it. I’m no’ _that_ stupid.”

“Oh.” The Doctor twiddled his thumbs. “Well, that’s alright, then.”

“ _Alright_ –” Jamie tore at his hair, staring at the Doctor in inexplicable consternation. “Do you really not – do you think that’s what this is about?”

“Well – yes?” The Doctor rubbed his arm. He certainly hadn’t done anything else lately that would warrant a pummelling – had he?

“It comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?” said Jamie, his voice heavy.

“Comes –”

“The lyin’,” said Jamie. “The lyin’, and the tricks – you’d have said anything, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I –” The Doctor pulled nervously at his sleeve. “I suppose so.”

“What if he’d been Victoria? Would you have said the same to her?” Jamie said. Privately, the Doctor reflected that Victoria would have had the good sense not to follow him into a hostile spacecraft. “What if they’d really wanted to kill me? Would you have just stood there –”

“Now, Jamie –”

“Stood there and watched – while they –”

The Doctor saw it again, saw the blades at Jamie’s throat, his blood staining the deck. He swallowed, closed his eyes, trying to drive the image away. “I wouldn’t have let it get that far.”

Jamie snorted. “What makes you so sure you could’ve stopped them?”

“I –”

“Ye always have to be the one in control, don’t you?”

“Oh, oh, of course not,” said the Doctor, though he knew perfectly well that it was the truth. “But – well, I, I – it was a calculated risk.”

Jamie’s face darkened still further. “How _dare_ you –”

“Really now, Jamie, there are billions of people on this planet – if I hadn’t been able to, to –”

“Och, I _know_ that.”

“Then why –”

“It’s no’ your life to risk!”

Half of him wanted more than anything to protest that Jamie hadn’t given him a choice, to say that it was all Jamie’s fault, Jamie’s fault for not doing as he was told, for coming aboard the ship and for getting caught – for jeopardising all his plans, for being so very reckless –

But the other half of him as frozen as in doused in icy water, silent, not daring to speak.

“You’re supposed to be my friend,” said Jamie, voice thick and shaky. “I’m no’ your pet and I’m no’ some playin’ piece you can push around on your damn board –”

“That’s not how it is,” the Doctor breathed.

“Isn’t it?” said Jamie. “After last time, I thought – I really thought you’d –”

“Last time?” the Doctor echoed, numb.

Jamie’s expression turned hollow. “You _forgot_?”

“I, I –”

“Last time, with the daleks – when you –”

“No, no, of course I didn’t –” He’d been going to say _forget_ , but Jamie kept going.

“Aye, you did. How – how many times have you _done_ this?”

He sounded so broken, the Doctor felt his eyes brim with tears. He blinked them away, not trusting himself to speak. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong. By all rights Jamie ought to be the one apologising to him.

“I almost believed you.”

“Pardon?” said the Doctor.

“The things you said, back there.” Jamie jerked his head at the doors. “I almost believed it.”

“I didn’t mean a word of it – you know that.” The Doctor tried to sound fond, comforting, but his voice shook.

“Do I?”

“Of course you do –”

“What do you think of me?” said Jamie.

“I – excuse me?”

Jamie shrugged. “It’s a simple enough question, aye?”

“Well, I, ah – I think very highly of you.” The Doctor stuck out his chin.

“Is that all?” Jamie said.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Why?”

“Eh? Why what?”

“Why’d you think so highly of me?”

He wanted to argue, wanted to say _oh, what are you getting at, Jamie – you know, you do, I don’t really need to say it, do I?_ But Jamie’s eyes were so hard, like cold flint, and he was acutely aware of how fragile this was, this thing between them, and how easily he might shatter it. “Well, you’re – very good company, and, and – you do a lot of good things to help me –”

“So I’m useful to you?”

“That’s not what I said – or, or it’s not what I _meant_.”

“Then what did you mean?” Jamie folded his arms, all but tapping his foot in his impatience, still so unfairly angry.

“I only meant that – oh, for pity’s sake! It – it doesn’t come easily,” he admitted. “Talking like this.”

“No?” said Jamie. “Seemed to come easy enough when you were sayin’ how stupid and pathetic I am.”

“Now, that – that’s not fair.” Clasping his hands together, the Doctor swallowed. “Oh, really! What do you want me to say?”

Jamie shrugged. “The truth.”

“Oh, Jamie, Jamie, you know the truth,” said the Doctor. “If only you’d – oh, I only want to make this right. I’ll, I’ll go down on my knees and beg your forgiveness, if that’s what it takes –”

“Alright.”

The Doctor blinked. “Eh?”

Jamie gestured to the floor. “On your knees, then.” The Doctor stared at him, wide-eyed. “Or were you sayin’ it just to say it – like with everything else?”

Once upon a time, the Doctor had refused to bow to Kubla Khan. He thought of refusing – and slowly, carefully, one knee at a time, sank to the floor. There he knelt, staring up at Jamie, lost for words.

“Well, go on.” Jamie motioned for him to speak. “Beg.”

“Jamie, I’m ever so sorry –”

“Beg properly.” By way of demonstration, Jamie clasped his hands together.

Swallowing, the Doctor imitated. “Jamie,” he said more firmly. “I – I know what I did was wrong, and I want to, to make it right – if you could only forgive me – I, I’m begging you.”

Jamie adjusted the set of his shoulders, but was otherwise unmoved.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor went on. “I don’t deserve it,” he said. “You’re right, I did a bad thing and, and I’ve done worse in the past. And yes, I, I’ve lied to you, but never about anything that mattered and never about – about us.”

Jamie motioned for him to go on.

“I consider you a – a dear, dear friend,” said the Doctor. “Perhaps the dearest I’ve ever had, and now I’ve hurt you – hurt you deliberately,” he added. “I hurt you on purpose and I shall never forgive myself, never, but please, please –” He breathed deep. “You’re my friend,” he went on in a small voice. “And you’re so very dear to me, because, well – because you’re Jamie. You’re so kind and so, so loyal and cleverer than you know – and, and a braver man than I could ever hope to be.” He found he was blinking away tears, but didn’t dare wipe his eyes. “Please – oh, please forgive me.”

Jamie didn’t answer.

“I couldn’t bear it if you hated me,” said the Doctor. “I just couldn’t bear it – oh.” He wiped at his eyes. Good grief, he was really crying. He hadn’t cried since –

“You can get up now,” said Jamie quietly.

The Doctor stood, fidgeting.

“I didn’t think you’re really do it,” Jamie confessed.

“Of course I would,” said the Doctor. “I’d do anything – for you.” He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.

“Och, dinnae start blubbering. Here.” Stepping forward, closing the space between them, Jamie rooted through the Doctor’s pockets in search of a handkerchief. Their bodies were so close together. The Doctor wanted to reach out, to hold him, but didn’t dare. “Here.” Tenderly, Jamie dabbed at the Doctor’s face. “And blow.” The Doctor blew his nose. Jamie balled the handkerchief back into his pocket.

He didn’t move away at once. He lingered, touching the Doctor’s shoulder, close to his neck. Sighing, he ducked his head forward, touching their foreheads together. The Doctor closed his eyes, relishing the contact.

“Never again,” said Jamie. “You hear me? Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Of course,” said the Doctor. “I promise, I shan’t ever lie to you –”

He was silenced by Jamie’s finger on his lips. “No. You’ll nae keep it.”

The Doctor wanted to argue, but in his heart of hearts he knew Jamie was right. 

“Just promise tae – promise you’ll be someone I can trust.”

“I promise.” Softly, the Doctor said, “it hurt, you know.”

“Hm?”

“What I did,” said the Doctor. “I things I said – it did hurt.”

“Aye. Good.”

There they stood, half-holding each other, for long moments. At last the Doctor straightened, composed himself. “Well,” he said. “I suppose we’d better find Victoria.”


End file.
